


Proper Research Methods

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Author Derek Hale, Erotica, Fade to Black, Fanboy Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Virgin Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek writes erotica for a living; books full of manly men doing incredibly adventurous things that include utilizing their bodies for business <i>and</i> pleasure. When he meets Stiles, a part of him wants one of his books to come to life. Well, except for that whole bit about how he's the only one who's ever touched his dick and Stiles comes on strong enough that he seems like he might have, well, expectations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Research Methods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhoNatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoNatural/gifts), [HalfFizzbin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfFizzbin/gifts).



> This came into existence entirely because of [howlnatural's tumblr exchange with halffizzbin](http://howlnatural.tumblr.com/post/86424466659/halffizzbin-howlnatural-because-of-the) so all credit for the idea goes there. I just couldn't resist writing it.
> 
> I guess this is where I can say you guys can [follow me on tumblr](http://superhappygenki.tumblr.com), too.

"Who should I sign it to?" Derek said, his fingers stroking against his pen as he looked up at the guy standing in front of him.

Licking his lips and leaning forward onto the edge of the table, the guy smirked. "Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S, and then whatever your phone number is."

Eyebrows lifting, Derek set pen to page and scribbled out exactly what the man had asked for. "I'll be heading out of town tomorrow for the rest of the book tour, so you should call me at seven if you'd like to be busy tonight." He blew softly across the ink and pushed the book back across the table. He curled his toes inside the expensive Italian leather loafers he had been forced into by his PR people, wondering if there was any way this wasn't going to end in disaster. After all, when a guy asks for your number knowing full well that you write what is basically porn for a living, he probably has certain expectations. Like for Derek to know what he was doing in bed. Which, well, he was more just the king of good research and an overactive imagination. Still, seeing Stiles and the veins on the back of his hands ending in long, thin fingers... Derek wanted them on him, and in a much more hands-on capacity than he'd ever wanted anything before.

Stiles gave him a starry-eyed kind of smile before clutching the book to his chest and walking away. Derek's eyes maybe followed the curve of his ass and the musculature of his thighs for a very long time; long enough that the next person in line cleared her throat. "Sorry about that," Derek said with a forced smile. "Who should I sign this to?"

* * *

If Derek had finished off all of his day's work and also made calls to anyone who might normally try to call him in the evening just to make sure that he was completely free after 6:59pm, well, could anyone really blame him? He was a 26 year old virgin who wrote about spies and lumberjacks and all other kinds of "manly" men who also engaged in things like space coitus and skydiving handjobs and fellatio while rock climbing. It has been almost a joke, at first. He'd been writing the adventure stories while also reading erotica and thought that some of it was so awful that even he could do better. The inclusion of the first frottage scene had been to piss off his editor who had told him that if the men in his stories were going to be so close, they should at least take their clothes off. Making them come in their pants like teenagers while disarming a bomb had felt like a grand gesture of fuck-off. 

The only thing more surprising than it going to print was that it was suddenly popular. Like, finally-making-a-living-off-of-his-writing popular. Getting to quit his job bartending in order to focus on writing had felt like a godsend, even if suddenly he was getting _requests_. He was in shape and liked being active, liked actually waking up and working out before his shower, even liked adrenaline rushes, so it wasn't a problem to go BASE jumping or to take a course on stunt driving or to go to the shooting range to try out a machine gun for research. But, the sex. Admitting, at his age, that the only hand that had been on his dick was his own? Yeah. That's why there was the internet.

When Derek glanced at his phone again, it was 7:05pm. Fuck. Apparently Stiles wasn't nearly as eager as Derek was. Maybe he just knew how hot he was and wanted to see if he could get Derek's number. It would figure; the first guy that Derek had ever seen and immediately though "Hey, I want to have sex with you!" and he wouldn't get to.

7:06pm fortunately told him that he was maybe full of shit when the phone rang and he had to force himself to wait a moment to answer because he didn't recognize the number. He cleared his throat and accepted the call. "Hello?"

There was a soft noise Derek couldn't quite make out, and then speaking. "Hey. Is this Derek?"

Grinning, Derek let himself relax. "Yeah. Hi, Stiles. Had to finish cleaning up your jerk session before you called?" He wasn't sure what made him say it; just that Stiles made him think dirtier thoughts than any brainstorming session ever and writing erotic adventure novels had kind of killed part of his filter.

Stiles seemed to be choking for a moment, but then let out a burst of laughter. "Uh, no? Nope. Totally not." He paused to breathe, then started talking almost immediately, but his voice lower; sultry. "I, uh, haven't exactly cleaned up yet."

If Derek wasn't already at half chub thinking about Stiles jerking off, he certainly was now. "Oh? And are you dragging your fingers through the come on your stomach and pretending they're mine?" Shit, there went his filter again. 

Audibly gulping, Stiles' breath started to come in heavier pants. "Well, _now_ I certainly am." He laughed. "So. You mentioned something about getting busy tonight?"

Derek cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way the tips of his ears suddenly felt very warm. "Want to meet for drinks? There's a place I like to go to over on Meadowview. Tom's?"

Stiles let out another soft moan. "Yeah. I can be there in, like, ten minutes. Are you coming from your hotel?"

"Really, Stiles." Derek let out a laugh of his own. "I live here in Beacon Hills. I take it you haven't done much research on me, then."

"I mostly just read your books and jerked off and fell in love with your face while waiting in line at the book signing. I'm really shallow. I'm sorry. I promise I will be considerate of your feelings in the morning." He coughed. "Assuming I spend the night, of course." 

Derek inhaled sharply. "Let's do drinks first. A little liquid courage never hurt a date." Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was the expectation. "I'll see you then in fifteen. Bye, Stiles." He tried to let some warmth into his voice before hanging up in a panic. 

It took him almost twenty minute to get to the bar thanks to realizing that his bed was unmade, the condoms in his nightstand were still in the fucking box, and the underwear he was wearing had a giant hole. Still, he normally kept his place pretty neat, so at least is was only a few minutes late.

Stiles waved to him from the bar and Derek made his way over, frowning at the bright green drink in front of Stiles. "What in the world are you drinking?"

"Midori Sour," Stiles said with a grin. "Wanna taste?"

Derek picked up the glass, wetting his lips with the liquid just to taste, shrugging as he set it back down. "It's a little sweet for me. I'm more of a Rob Roy kind of guy."

Stiles shivered slightly. "Yeah. You look like the kind of guy who doesn't like things too sweet." He gestured to the bartender. "Can I get a Rob Roy over here?" Derek watched as the man made it, wondering if he could work bartending into his next novel.

A moment later, the drink was settled in front of Stiles and he pushed it toward Derek. "Here. On me." He smiled. "It's not the only thing I want on me, though. In case you were wondering."

Derek took a long swig of his drink, his lips pursing as he swallowed. "You certainly know how to come on strong."

"Well, then there's no questions. Just, I want you. Then it's out on the table and it's up to you to do something about it if you want." Stiles traced his middle finger around the rim of his glass, biting his lip as he looked up at Derek.

"I, uh..." Derek licked his lips and turned slightly toward Stiles. "Let's talk a little first. I like to get to know more about a person than just how their body feels against mine." Shit. That line was basically lifted out of his latest manuscript. He gave Stiles a nervous smile and took another long sip of his drink.

Stiles leaned against the bar, pulling the stirring straw from his drink and sucking on it as he looked Derek over. "So, uh, tell me more about you first. I did give your Wikipedia page a quick once over, but then I found myself reading about BDSM because one of your books had the sex swing thing in it."

Another gulp of bitter alcohol and Derek cleared his throat. "That's the problem with research sometimes. I don't actually have a sex swing at my place, in case you were wondering. Well, not anymore." Because, he had bought one. Research. And he had a blow-up doll that he'd strapped into it. For research. But, as it turned out, he'd kind of installed it wrong which meant getting the ceiling repaired and throwing out the sex swing because it just reminded him of the embarrassment.

"Wore it out, huh?" Stiles dug into the bowl of peanuts on the bar, sliding a few into his mouth and practically slurping on them for a moment before crunching them between his teeth and swallowing. He went wide-eyed a moment later. "Geez, uh, that look you're giving me... I promise that I like to put salty nuts in my mouth and suck on them, but I only bite down when they're food. Oh god." He buried his face in his hands for a moment, then took another small sip of his drink, nodding at something unsaid.

"I've done all of the adventurous stuff in the books?" Derek offered the information even as he wondered if it was a lie or not. He had gone to Australia to scuba dive with Great White Sharks. He just hadn't actually engaged in mutual handjobs in a shark cage. "Well, not all of the sex stuff," he said quickly. "I like adrenaline rushes, but danger sex? Not really my kind of thing."

Stiles breathed a sign of something like relief. "Oh, good. I mean, dude. I basically worship you, okay? So, just the chance here... I would've tried just about anything because I bet you make it amazing. Anyone who can write rimming like that? I want to do that with them."

Great. Stiles wanted to get rimmed and the closest Derek had come was seeing it in porn. He took another drink, frowning when he finished it off. "Hey, can I get whatever IPA you've got on tap?" he called to the bartender. He didn't normally mix alcohols, but he wanted something he could get more pulls off of than a mixed drink. Turning back to Stiles, he shrugged one shoulder. "There's plenty of things we can do, Stiles. Now, like you said, you've looked over my Wikipedia page. But all I know about you is that I want to bite every mole on your body and catalogue the way different parts of your body taste." He swallowed roughly, hoping the darkness of the bar hid the blush he could feel creeping over his face.

"Um, my dad's the Sheriff, my mom died of cancer when I was young, I have no siblings, I work in the mail room of a software company, and the second I found out you were going to be doing a book signing, I started showing signs of illness so I could call out today and no one would question it." He sucked his upper lip into his mouth. "I, uh, like sex. A lot. But, I like the idea of not having to be a girly gay guy but also not having to have a freaking rug on my chest and more bulging muscles than IQ points, so when a friend recommended your books? I just... It felt like they were made just for me or something. Although, I have to say... The bulging muscles and chest hair on you? I could get into that. Like, a lot."

Noticing his beer now on the bar top, Derek took a sip, and then another. "You're kind of exactly my type," he said with more solemnity than he'd intended. "I have never wanted to take someone to bed as badly as I want you." He sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a moment. "I didn't even really know I had a type," he said softly.

Stiles grinned, reaching over to put his hand on Derek's knee and then picking up his drink with the other hand, downing the rest in one swallow. "You ready to get out of here?"

Derek pointed to his beer. "I only just started this, and-" He was cut off by Stiles' mouth colliding with his, tongue delving deep inside almost immediately and seeming to trace over his molars. He'd done this part, at least; had even been praised for it. He let the beer go forgotten and brought his hands up to cup Stiles' jaw, doing his best to learn every nuanced bit of Stiles' mouth before pulling him back with a final wet noise. He slapped his hand on the bar to get the bartender's attention, not caring how rude it was, and pulled out his wallet. "I need to close his tab," he said roughly, pulling out $40 and shoving it over. "The rest is a tip if you do this quick." He was starting to get hard as he looked Stiles over, his lips slightly swollen and looking more than a little dazed as he leaned in toward Derek.

Carefully tracing along Derek's cheek, Stiles grinned. "Fuck, I want to know what this feels like against my thighs."

Groaning, Derek leaned in to brush his jaw against Stiles' neck, breathing heavily against his ear. "Let's go back to my place so you can find out."

Stiles pushed him back, half pulling himself over the bar to grab his license from the bartender's hand, and then grabbing Derek by the hand and pulling him bodily from his barstool. "Shut up and drive."

Derek glanced over the row of cars parked out front, then gave Stiles a confused look. "You don't want to follow me?"

"I don't want to chance getting lost. Drive me back when you're sick of me?" Stiles moved in almost impossibly close, his hips brushing against Derek's, his erection almost as obvious to Derek as his own was.

"The black Camaro," Derek said, his hips pressing forward slightly. "Fuck, I want you."

Stiles nodded, his fingers moving to clutch at Derek's shirt. "Dude, you've got me. Just get me to a bed or even your backseat if you've got lube in the glove compartment."

Derek snorted. "I can't even really fit in my backseat alone." The idea was preposterous enough that it let him take a step back, pulling out his keys and unlocking the car, even opening the door for Stiles before moving around to the driver's side. He was pulling away even before he really had his seatbelt on. He had only had the one drink and a few sips of the beer so he figured he was okay to drive, but he did make himself try to focus on the road. At least, until Stiles ran his fingers over the fly of Derek's pants. "Hey! Stop that."

Pouting, Stiles squirmed in the passenger seat and moved his hand to adjust his own pants. "Fine. I'll give you road head on the way back to my Jeep."

The way Stiles made his words all sound like promises... Derek wanted to pull over and just... He didn't even know. For all of the practical knowledge he had, and all of the porn he had watched for ideas, and all of the things he had done to his own body to find out what he liked, he felt every inch the virgin right now, certain that his actual inexperience was a blaring klaxon by now and that Stiles must be a saint for not mentioning it. "That's dangerous," he said quickly. "Road head after drinking? You said your dad's the sheriff. I doubt he'd want me to crash and kill us because you couldn't wait a few minutes to see my dick."

"But, I would be tasting it," Stiles said with a soft sigh. "Dude, your body was, like, made to sin. I mean, I can see your abs through your shirt and I want to fucking suck marks on your collarbone that spell my name to mark you."

Derek was certain he was blushing now, but it did make him press down on the accelerator a bit more. There wasn't a cop in town who'd pull you for five over as long as you weren't swerving around. "Just, uh, calm down. We're almost there."

Stiles continued to almost writhe in the passenger seat, his tongue tracing over his lips again and again as he watched Derek. "The things that your books have made me imagine, Derek. This is so not going to be the first time you've made me come."

Pulling onto his street, Derek was certain that he'd never been so happy to see the front of his condo. His tires screeched as he pulled into his assigned parking, the seat belt buckle clinking as he threw it back over his shoulder. "Come on," he said gruffly, figuring that throwing himself into the moment wasn't going to hurt any more than anything else.

Almost slamming his door after getting out of the Camaro, Stiles was quick to plaster himself to Derek again, making the process of getting to the elevator a little interesting. Still, they got inside and Derek managed to hit the correct button on the second try, fully aware of the noises that Stiles was pulling from him as they echoed back. They tumbled out into the hallway onto for Derek to tug them back in, riding up one more floor with Stiles' mouth against Derek's carotid artery and sucking hard before Derek pulled them out and pushed Stiles against his door, one knee between Stiles' thighs as he opened the door. Stiles whimpered, rutting against his hip. "Fuck, I need to see you naked."

Derek groaned, pushing them through the doorway and kicking it shut behind him before letting Stiles go and turning, slamming his head against the door and then punching it. "Shit, Stiles." He turned around, leaning back against the door and flexing his aching hand. "Look, uh... I've never actually done this before."

Stiles let out a huff of breath. "What, like brought someone back to your place? That's awesome. I like being special. I promise I won't-"

"No." Derek rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "Fuck, just... I'm a virgin, okay?"

"You're..." Stiles' mouth dropped open and he just stared at Derek, blinking. "Nah, dude. No one can write what you do who has never been properly laid. Awesome delivery of the joke, though. I almost believed you." He started to smile, but the corners of his mouth dropped again. "Shit. Fuck. The way you were acting in the bar and the not wanting road head..." He laughed suddenly. "Dude, that's actually kind of awesome because I had it in my head to be good enough to try to get in your top three."

Derek flexed his fingers again. "So, you're not angry?"

"Surprised," Stiles said with a shrug. "A guy who writes like you, who looks like you... I just didn't think it was possible. But, uh, I can say with a lot fo surety that I wouldn't mind introducing you to it. Y'know, if you wanna lose that pesky virginity. Or at least the shirt. If we're not gonna do the do, I'd at least like to see the chest hair. And the abs."

Stepping away from the door, Derek nodded and began to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off and letting it drop to the floor. "Is this okay?"

Stiles' eyebrows lifted and he nodded, his smile quirking upward on one side. "This is... Wow. Just, um, you're not going to mind if I sink to my knees and worship you, right?"

Derek hesitantly moved his hands to his belt buckle, undoing it and then letting his fingers catch at the button of his pants. "Isn't there a different kind of worship you can do on your knees?"

"Yes. So much fucking yes." Stiles licked his lips as he moved closer.

The next morning, Derek found himself completely unwilling to get out of bed for his usual workout, but only because so many of his muscles ached from the previous night's workout. There was also the small matter of Stiles being warm against his side, and the not-so-small matter of Stiles' morning wood pressing insistently against his ass. Yeah, definitely good reasons not to leave bed yet.

* * *

Two book releases later, Derek found himself doing another signing at the same shop that he'd met Stiles in, smiling more than normal at the memory, and then smirking at certain _other_ memories he shared with the man. He was probably halfway through the queue by now and was already starting to feel a cramp starting to form in his hand when the next person walked up, smiling sweetly before handing over his latest novel about a pair of con men in a fuck or die scenario. "Who should I make this out to?"

She batted her eyelashes, clutching her hands together. "Could you just write your favorite sex position?" Her nose wrinkled as she laughed. "Okay, and to Laura." She paused as he started to write. "And, I wanted to tell you: I've been a fan since before you started putting the sex in and I've always liked your work, but lately? Wow." She held up a hand and fanned her face. "All other erotica is a hack job next to them. Seriously."

Derek felt the somewhat familiar tinge of heat in his face as he blushed. "Uh, thanks. I guess I've just had some great inspiration lately." He glanced over to where Stiles was seated at a table, licking his lips as he read... something. "The next one's going to be about pirates, by the way. Tell your friends."

Grabbing the book Derek pushed toward her, she let out a soft squeal. "Sarah is going to freak!" She glanced at the inscription and then clutched the book back to her chest. "All of them? Really?"

With a casual shrug, Derek smirked. "At least all of the ones in the Gay Kama Sutra."


End file.
